


Let Me Be Your Guardian

by Caraphernellic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bisexuality, Depression, Gay Panic, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-10-31 21:49:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17857580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caraphernellic/pseuds/Caraphernellic
Summary: The very last thing that Dean Winchester believed in was God. He knew, and had always known, that he was walking the path through his messy world alone.All Castiel ever wanted was to serve Heaven. If serving Heaven means serving Dean Winchester, then he can manage a sarcastic young man with a troubled past.But Dean isn't alone in this life, and falling for him isn't on Heaven's agenda.





	1. Chapter 1

“This will be your new charge.” A packet of paper thunks down onto the table before him. Castiel sets his lips into a thin line in an attempt to hide his disdain. The angel has just been informed that he will be assigned to a new human to watch over.

 

“Claire Novak is no longer in need of a guardian angel.” The decision had been said with finality, stunning Castiel, who was blindsided by the revelation. He had known this day was coming for years, but it had snuck up on him anyway. The blue-eyed angel had been assigned a little girl by the name of Claire Novak as he first guardian job, seventeen years ago. She was just a baby then, all blonde hair and wide eyes. Claire had no idea then that she would lose her mother, that her father would go missing, and that she would grow up in foster home after foster home. But her guardian angel was there for her through all of it. Until now, evidently.

 

“Get familiar. This human is an adult with a past that you must be well-informed about. Duty begins two days from now.” Naomi supplies him with a curt nod before exiting the room, leaving Castiel with no choice but to do as she has demanded. The cover sheet of the admittedly thick packet contains only two words- “ DEAN WINCHESTER ”.

 

Prior to his promotion to guardian angel, Castiel had no idea what it meant to be human. After practically raising Claire, he understands empathy more than any of his brothers and sisters ever could. The dark-haired angel is quite certain that he will be able to help this human as he did for her. He flips through the straight forward pages, memorizing the contents. “Dean Winchester” is twenty-four years old, with one sibling and one living parent. The man has a few friends, but lives alone in a small home in South Dakota. He struggles with depression and is stubborn, sarcastic, and sedulous. Castiel sighs, gathering from the information that he is going to have a tough time convincing this man that he is an Angel of the Lord. “ _ There is two days to prepare _ ”, he reminds himself. “ _ Two days” _ .

 

Castiel decides that the most efficient method of introduction is to simply show up in Dean Winchester’s house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dean sits on his couch with a beer, like he does most nights after work. He has a tv dinner on the coffee table in front of him, and is just about to dig in when the lamp next to him and the tv go out at the same time, bulbs bursting with a crackling sound. “Damn fuse.” He mutters, reaching for his cell phone to utilize the flashlight.

 

“Hello, Dean.”

 

Dean jumps visibly, “Son of a….” His head whips toward the sound- a man is sitting in the chair next to the sofa. “Who the hell are you?” He reaches in vain for anything he can use as a weapon and ends up stupidly holding out the tv remote in front of him. 

 

“I am an Angel of the Lord. But you may call me Castiel.”

 

Dean makes a mental note to check the alcohol percentage on his beer, because surely he must be drunk for this to be happening. “How do you know my name? And why are you in my house?” The man is still sitting in the chair, but Dean takes a step backward just in case he wants to try anything.

 

“I am your guardian angel.” Castiel cocks his head, contemplating why the man has the television remote pointed at him.

 

“Yeah, and I’m Santa Clause.” Dean replies with bite in his tone. 

 

“No, you are not. Saint Nicholas is a dear friend, he is actually not the ‘Santa’ in popular culture, but-” Castiel begins to explain, but Dean cuts him off.

 

“Get out of my house before I call the police.”

 

“Dean Henry Winchester. Son of Jonathan Winchester and the deceased Mary Campbell. Older brother to Samuel Winchester, currently attending Stanford University. You have a close friend known as “Uncle Bobby”- Robert Singer, who lives not far from here. Other friends include Charlie Bradbury, your neighbors the Tran family, as well as Ellen and Joanna Beth Harvelle. You are twenty-four. Interests include classic cars, rock music, and greasy foods.” Castiel waits patiently for Dean to close his mouth and respond.

 

“So what are you, FBI, a stalker maybe?” Taking another step back, the light-haired man looks appalled.

 

“I told you, I am an Angel.”

 

“Riiiight….well, if you are a ‘guardian angel’, where the hell have you been the past twenty-four years? A little late now, huh? Where were you when my mom died, or when Ellen’s husband was killed?” Dean’s fists clench involuntarily, remote control abandoned on the cushion now. 

 

“It’s...complicated. Guardian’s cannot  _ prevent _ something from happening, although sometimes we can intervene. Mostly we just help our assignments get through it.” Castiel folds his hands in his lap, prepared for this to be a long conversation.

 

“Well that’s….bullshit,” is the genius and well thought-out response that Dean comes up with.

 

“You’re angry with me.” The angel narrows his eyes, then widens them again. “No, you’re angry with my Father.”

 

“Who, God ?” Dean scoffs. “I stopped believing in that a long time ago. Right around the time he let my mother burn to death.” He storms out of the room toward the utility closet to check the fuse box. He’s been arguing with a stranger in the dark for about fifteen minutes and he’s getting tired of it.

 

“My apologies about your lights.” Castiel follows him, unaware that the man has exited the room to escape his company.

 

“That was you?!” Dean mutters something under his breath and stops in the hallway “Can you leave now?”

 

“I am afraid that is not how this works.” Castiel and Dean speak, or rather bicker, until after midnight. Dean adamantly refuses to believe that he is an Angel of the Lord, although he has asked Castiel a myriad of questions that he answers with ease.

 

The angel has to put his hand in a pot of boiling water and attempt to slice his impenetrable skin with a knife before Dean starts to believe what he is even a tiny bit.

 

“This makes no sense. I’m an adult now. ‘God’ didn’t think that I deserved a guardian angel when I was a kid? After all the crap I went through?” Dean scoffs and refuses to look at Castiel, who is pointedly ignoring the way that he says his Father’s name with such contempt.

 

“The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

 

“You did  _ not _ just say that.” Dean looks at him in disbelief. “I’m going to bed. This is too much for me. I have work again tomorrow.”

 

“Is tomorrow not Saturday?” Castiel asks him, his tone colored with confusion.

 

“It’s called bills dude. I need to have money to pay them.” The green-eyed man is already making his way down the hallway to his bedroom.

 

“We will pick this up tomorrow then. After you are finished with working.” Castiel nods to himself in the darkness. He sits and waits for multiple hours before he thinks to get up and look around Dean’s home. The informational packet that Naomi had supplied him with was indeed helpful, but of course it was did not tell him  _ everything _ about the man. The angel wonders if Dean will ever trust him; it was so easy with Claire, since she had grown up with him.

  
  


Dean wakes up to the sound of his alarm at 7:00am on Saturday morning. He blinks, slowly remembering the strange dream he had the night before. Something about an angel in his house, vivid blue eyes, and-

 

“Good morning, Dean.” A voice that sounds like a gravel road comes from outside his bedroom door.

 

Dean sits up quickly. Okay, apparently not a dream. The stranger is still in his house. Dean doesn’t reply, instead tugging on a pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, since he sleeps in his boxer briefs 99% of the time. He opens his door to see the alleged angel standing behind it , looking for all the world like he isn’t uncomfortable being there in the slightest. “I have work.” Dean tells him again, as if he doesn’t already know this. He slides past him and makes his way to his small kitchen, starting the coffee pot.

 

“You have work at 7:30. You won’t have time to eat.” Castiel sounds disappointed, or maybe worried or….something. Dean stares at him for a moment, wondering how he knew that, until his eyes helpfully supply him with the image of his schedule posted on the refrigerator. 

 

“Usually don’t.” Dean replies, pouring most of the contents of the pot into the large travel mug that Sam had gotten him last Christmas. He’s gotten a lot of use out of it, to say the least. He works early every single weekday morning and picks up a lot of Saturday shifts as well. He sees the dark-haired man frown and wonders for the umpteenth time why he is even here and why he cares. Oh right, because he’s an ‘Angel of the Lord’ and God told him he’s supposed to care.

 

Right.

 

Dean leaves the house at 7:20am like he always does. The drive to the salvage yard takes six minutes, in which he uses those six minutes to contemplate what exactly happened the previous night. He ends up mentioning it to Bobby about halfway through his shift. Bobby is for all the world Dean’s surrogate father. Dean did- does, have a biological father, but he’s been stuck at the bottom of a whiskey bottle for a number of years now. Robert Singer was John’s friend and their neighbor growing up; neighbor being a loose term considering his house was a mile away. Kansas farm houses tend to be set up like that. Bobby lost his wife around the same time that the Winchesters lost Mary, except he never lost  _ himself _ the same way John did. Dean’s childhood is filled with memories of walking down the road to Bobby’s with his brother in tow because Dad was passed out again and there wasn’t any food in the house. Aside from being family to him, Bobby also knows a lot regarding the supernatural and occult. It’s something Dean and his brother Sam can always remember him being interested in, for whatever reason. The green-eyed man supposes it’s coming in handy now.

 

“So Bobby, what do you know about angels?” Dean can’t think of a way to spin this into a casual conversation so he simply comes right out with it.

 

Bobby looks at him for a long moment. “Angels, huh?” He scratches his chin as if he doesn’t know how to answer it. “Well, what do you wanna know?”

 

“Have you ever heard of….are there….what about guardian angels?” The younger man refuses to look him in the eye.

 

“There’s a ton of lore on it, though I can’t say I’ve had any experience in the matter myself.” He chuckles a bit. “What brings this on?”

 

Dean stares down at the sandwich in his hand, going back and forth in his head for a solid minute straight on whether Bobby will laugh him out of the shop if he tells the truth. Or what he thinks is the truth, anyway.

 

“It may have been a weird dream, but I think an angel visited me last night.” He steels himself for the laughter. He feels Bobby’s eyes on him for a long moment, gauging if Dean is pulling some sort of prank or not. 

 

Bobby turns fully toward him. ‘Say what now?”

  
  


Their lunch break runs longer than normal as Dean tells him every detail of the previous night. To his relief, Bobby doesn’t laugh, but he does seem extremely intrigued.

 

“And he just, what, appeared out of thin air?” Bobby asks for the third time, attempting to help Dean piece together the situation.

 

“More like one minute he wasn’t there, then the next he was.” The younger man would have been exasperated had it been any other person and any other circumstance.

 

“Well I’ll be damned.” Bobby stands up and dusts the crumbs of his lunch from his pants. “Let’s get back to work.”

 

And if that isn’t the most Robert Singer thing that he has ever done, then Dean doesn’t know what beat that.

 

He almost thinks that Bobby has brushed it aside entirely, until he mentions it again as Dean is leaving for the day. “Hey kid, I’ll do some research for ya, alright?” Dean doesn’t know how to respond other than to nod.

 

To his relief, the ‘angel’ is nowhere to be found when Dean arrives home. The exhausted man kicks off his shoes and collapses onto the couch to rest for a moment. Working these hours is draining him, even at his young age. The need for money seems to be outweighing the toll it takes on him- his bills aren’t too high, but he can never be sure when his father is skipping work to drink the day away, and John’s bills won’t pay themselves. It’s been so long dealing with his father’s behaviors that sometimes Dean forgets that other people don’t live like this.

 

That’s what pains him the most.

 

Halfway through a movie, bowl of popcorn on his lap, a rustle to his left makes him turn his head. He jumps when he sees Castiel sitting in the armchair again. 

 

“Goddamit Cas!” Dean bends down to pick up a few kernels of popcorn that spilled in his surprise.

 

“Hello Dean.” Castiel meant to greet him immediately so as not to startle him, but it seems he was a moment too late. He thinks that ‘Cas’ is a nickname, a step in the right direction toward building a repertoire with Dean, so he lets it slide.

 

“How are you?” He knows this to be a customary phrase among humans.

 

“Just peachy.” Dean replies sarcastically. “What are you doing here? I don’t need guarding while I’m watching a movie.” 

 

“I feel it is important that we build some sort of a relationship if we are going to be in this...partnership.” The angel turns more fully toward Dean to give him his full attention.

 

The green-eyed man shifts uncomfortably. He isn’t used to anyone really expressing sole interest in him at all- not his thoughts, how his day was, or anything other than his dick during a one night stand. Hell, he truly can’t even remember the last time someone asked him about how he feels. As much as he tries to have a devil-may-care attitude, sometimes he just wishes someone would put half as much into him as he does for them. However, this is just downright uncomfortable considering Castiel is a strange man that he barely knows who keeps mysteriously appearing in his house. When did his life become an episode of Bewitched?

 


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks pass by with sporadic visits from Castiel, but no more answers from Bobby. To his own surprise, Dean is finding that he doesn’t mind having Cas around. He is strange, sure, and a little too formal for his liking, but there’s something about him that Dean finds himself not minding as much as he would expect. He supposes it’s the part of him that wants to believe that someone, somewhere, is looking out for him. God knows he could use it (no pun intended). He did, after all, see Castiel put his hands in boiling hot water and emerge perfectly fine. Dean has a silly thought, wondering if he’s the only one that can see him, and makes a mental note to ask him about it later. 

 

Dean does briefly wonder if he’s finally cracking up, if the years of mental illness stemming from mental abuse at the hands of his father and PTSD from the death of his mother are finally catching up to him. Maybe he’s just so damn lonely that his mind conjured up an imaginary friend for him.

 

And isn’t that a pathetic thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Ever since Sam went away to college, two years ago now, Dean’s already precarious mental health has taken a steady decline. Even if he never really leaned on his brother anyway, or tried not to, it’s hard to go through life all alone with no one to get him out of his head. Dean knows that everyone knows about John, but he doesn’t bring it up unless it’s to Bobby-sometimes not even then. Pretending your Dad isn’t a raging alcoholic is a lot easier than facing the facts; heaving his Dad off of the bathroom floor or hiding his car keys is simply Dean’s way of life now. There is no checking up on a son like a father should, but Dean is too proud to come out and say that he’s struggling on his own. Without anyone to ask him if he is okay, he suffers in silence.

  
  


Just by spending small increments of time with him, Castiel can tell that Dean is unhappy. It’s different than Claire’s teenage years when everything around her was changing and it gave her a whirlwind of emotions. Castiel thinks that Dean’s unhappiness has to do with the fact that things _ aren’t  _ changing. He has a pretty straightforward routine: work Monday-Friday, sometimes on Saturdays. Call Sam at least twice a week, check on the neighbors son Kevin on nights when Ms. Tran works late. Cook dinner and make extra for Bobby. Have a drink at the Roadhouse across town to catch up with Ellen and Jo. It occurs to Castiel after some thought, that Dean doesn’t seem to do anything purely for the benefit of himself. He brings this up one evening-

 

The other man scoffs and looks uncomfortable. “Yes I do.” He insists, but makes no attempt on to clarify what that might be.

 

“The pornography magazines that you have in your room?” Castiel suggests, his lack of social ability not alerting him to the fact that porn is private.

 

Dean’s mouth drops open and he is speechless for a moment. Then, in true Winchester fashion, he deflects. “Cas, if you were lonely, you should’ve told me to buy you your own skin mag at the store.” He won’t look Castiel in the eye, and Cas knows he is embarrassed.

 

“I am sorry, I was not snooping. When I came in one night, my presence knocked them onto the floor.” Cas is referring to the soft wind often created by him arriving. He hopes that the man isn’t angry with him.

 

“It’s private. Just don’t….don’t knock them over again, okay?” He doesn’t sound mad, but he does sound...worried? Cas still has a hard time deciphering human emotions sometimes.

  
  


It’s been a little over a month now, and Castiel has still stuck around. A weird part of Dean is relieved- but then again, the first person to stay in his life and it’s only because ‘God’ told them to. That’s not to say that Dean didn’t try all of the tricks from Bobby’s lore books to keep Castiel out in the beginning. None of them worked, but Dean can’t tell if that means it’s all a hoax or if Castiel really is something more powerful. 

 

He hasn’t mentioned Cas to Sam at all, because clearly his brother would think he is cracking up. Hell, Dean would think the same about Sam if the situation were reversed.

 

The alleged angel isn’t always around Dean, and he tells himself that the guy has a life too- at least of some sort. He doesn’t talk about Heaven very often, and Dean doesn’t ask. Why inquire about something he’s not even totally sold on the existence of?

 

The green-eyed man is still struggling with the idea of it all, but has no choice but to accept at least what his mind can see.

  
  
  
  


Having someone at home to greet him after a long day at work isn’t so bad.

 

“Hello Dean.”

 

The homeowner sighs as he toes his boots off. “What’s that smell?” he sniffs suspiciously.

 

“Oh!” Castiel jumps up from the armchair and darts into the kitchen. Dean follows, the smell of smoke becoming more pungent as he does so.

 

“I made dinner.” The angel says weakly, pulling out what was once probably a frozen pizza but is now a charred disc. Dean notes that he is holding the hot pizza pan with his bare hand.

 

“Pizza is always better from scratch.” Dean tells him, opening up the window over the sink to let the smoke out.

 

“I was trying to do something nice for you after a long day.” Castiel is still frowning down at the pizza. Dean’s oven must be different than the one at Claire’s foster homes. The angel wanted to do something to help his new charge and he has done nothing but make things more difficult. “How do you make pizza ‘from scratch’?” To Dean, he looks for all the world like he has no idea what that phrase even means. The green-eyed man contemplates for a minute. Pizza does sound pretty good, and he hasn’t made one in who knows how long. He goes to pick up his keys from the living room floor beside the front door. When he doesn’t hear footsteps behind him, he turns around “You coming?”

 

That’s how Dean ends up in a Kroger with an alleged angel trailing behind him. “I like it fresh but this will do.” Dean tosses a block of mozzarella cheese into the cart, the last of their ingredients. 

 

Twenty minutes later finds them with their sleeves rolled up in Dean’s kitchen. The man is currently showing the stranger how to make dough. 

 

“This is…”

 

Dean looks amused as he waits for the dark-haired man’s response. He still isn’t convinced that he is an actual angel, but there are worse people to have randomly shown up in his living room. The guy is definitely a little strange, but he’s kind of funny. Not to mention the fact that it’s been a long time since Dean had some company. He seems harmless enough. The rational part of his brain has been screaming at him to kick this guy out since the very first minute they met, but his darker parts are telling him that he needs this before his mind swallows him whole.

 

“Laborous.” Castiel finally finishes his sentence.

 

“It’s a labor of love.” Dean tells him with a chuckle. His own dough is the perfect consistency already, from years of practice.

 

‘Labor of love.’ Castiel has never heard this phrase before, but he thinks he likes it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel has been Dean Winchester’s guardian angel for two and a half months, and he finally believes that he is making a breakthrough. Naomi will be pleased.

 

Dean no longer jumps when Castiel makes his presence known. Sometimes, not often, he will let a small smile slip or tell a joke. He still does not confide in Castiel though, and it is becoming a tedious task to come up with things to bring back to Heaven regarding Dean’s progress.

 

This particular night, Cas arrives inside Dean’s living room just as the man seems to be leaving the house.

 

“I’m going to the Roadhouse. You should come with me. Or is that against angel rules?” Dean looks amused, assuming that Castiel will graciously bow out.

 

However, the angel can’t miss this opportunity to bond with his charge. This could be his chance to gain more information pertaining to his mission. “Sure, I can join you.” Dean gives him a once over with scrutiny. “Let’s freshen you up, you look like a holy tax accountant.” He unknots Castiel’s tie and tosses it on his armchair. Dean then unbuttons the first few buttons on the angel’s shirt, rolls up his sleeves, and steps back to admire his handiwork. “Eh, untuck the shirt too.” The light-haired man decides. After a moment, he shrugs. “Much better. It’ll do.”

 

The unlikely pair arrives at Harvelle’s Roadhouse twenty minutes later.

 

Dean grabs them his usual table, which is blissfully empty despite the crowd filling the popular weekend spot. Jo grabs them each a beer, but a man that Cas has never seen nor heard about is the one to take their order.

 

“I heard the elusive Dean Winchester was here, and I thought it couldn’t be true. Had to come see for myself.” The tall, burly man has kind eyes. Castiel can tell a pure soul from looking in their eyes. The man smiles a wide grin and props himself up on their table with an easy stance.

 

“Yeah, well….” Dean seems to lose his words when Benny, the new Roadhouse cook, is around. He’s only crossed paths with him once or twice, since Benny is a weekend employee and Dean normally has work on Saturdays.

 

Castiel and Dean stay until after midnight, though Cas never touches his beer, Dean imbibes several more. The angel thinks that Dean looks nice with the flush of pink added to his cheeks by the alcohol. He also thinks he likes how much more relaxed Dean seems, how his anxiety and worry seem to fade a little.

 

Castiel also wonders how John Winchester is how he is, yet his son is the complete opposite. He hasn’t met John in person yet, but many details of him were included in his original disclosure of his new guardianship. He has also invisibly checked in on the man twice, and both times he had ingested enough alcohol to be in an unconscious state. It makes Cas glad that Dean apparently inherited his mother’s self control.

  
  


The pair arrives back to Dean’s home together. The light-haired man closes the front door and toes off his shoes. “Man, what a night.”

 

“Dean.” Cas is watching him carefully. “It’s okay.”

  
  


“What? Are you drunk, Cas?” Dean doesn’t have a clue what the angel means.

 

“That you are sexually attracted to men.” Cas says it as if it is obvious.

 

Dean’s back is to him at the moment, but his form goes still. After what seems like an eternity, he turns around to face him.

 

“Get out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me entirely too long to write this because I was trying my best to not make their relationship feel forced. Please leve me some feedback! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about 5-7 chapters for this one- for once I'm going to try to be brief :) Please leave me a comment if you're enjoying the story!


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